Viren unboxed the ‘Test Kit’ from Dumah Interactive. He was worried whether the proprietary technology in the kit items would be readable with his XPTech. The Indian government had invested in and sanctioned XPTech (Experience Technology) to be compatible with anything, from the reading of outdated CD-ROMs to modern neuralink functionalities. However, the hardware components for each experience needed to be modified for its respective uses.

Viren had read that in the past multiple devices had been created by various companies, to serve different purposes. Some companies specialised in cell phones while others in gaming consoles. He couldn’t imagine how that could be feasible, or who in their right minds would invest huge sums of money in developing dozens of different devices with varying software and hardware requirements. He was glad that in the modern day (2049) the technology had been streamlined to offer just one device that could be modified using components also made by the same company. Of course, competition did exist with other brands trying to push their products, but they never quite reached the same level of popularity as had been achieved decades ago.

Viren’s current XPTech (from the company VG Knight EQ) was a system connected to the internet at all times, as were a lot of electronics these days. Every game or experience came with a protocol that triggered a geo-confirmation for the individual or group to be able to ‘play’ it. This was the reason why experiences or games were no longer heavy on the pocket, because the user did not technically own them: they were essentially given permission to rent them. The only real expense was the XPTech; and that was largely a no-brainer because it was a necessity in most households and a preference in the rest. Although VG Knight EQ was a government-regulated organisation, it held several international patents for first-party development, making the system as desirable as any other from the west.

Once everything from the package was removed, Viren tossed the empty box into the space behind the couch, which was already littered with several such previously received boxes. He set up everything on his living room table and began to examine each of the items. His XPTech connected to the television was ready, so he made himself comfortable on the sofa. The most compelling item was the black piece of stiff paper with the name ‘Erasmus Guthry’ on it. Then, there was another card with a 15-digit code on it. Finally, there was a thick instruction booklet, in case I belonged to the older generation that preferred to have a physical copy of everything. A contract was also included, affirming that I am officially a part of Dumah Interactive’s employment; and that I could opt out of this contract at any time, subject to certain conditions.

Viren logged into the Dumah Interactive user portal. He was used to this procedure as it was mandatory for many such gaming portals. He registered his ‘@’ ID (or Novacode) which then prompted him to confirm all his public information such as his name, date of birth, location, most of which were designed to indicate to his service provider whether the person playing the game was ‘real’. Viren was then prompted for the code; he typed 116114117116104, and hit the Enter button on the screen from his trackpad.

The next moment, his television screen darkened momentarily and a familiar video started up:

‘Welcome to The Anachron!’

“Oh no,” Viren exclaimed. “Not her again.” Viren was referring to the ad that he had seen about a thousand times now.

‘Fulfill your every desire! Shape your perfect reality! Live within the stories you create! Join us, in the next stage of life.’

“Please tell me that there is something new here.” The same imagery as in the advertisement had been copy-pasted into this video.

Congratulations Viren! You are now part of our global family. We look forward to taking care of you.

This time, new motion graphics popped on screen. Viren assumed that the ‘we’ was probably a reference to the denizens of The Anachron and not the actual employees of Dumah Interactive. Based on his current family situation, he suspected the video had been customised for him. Don’t overthink it! It’s probably the default for everyone else.

As a beta tester, you are eligible for one of three roles: an adventurer, a survivor or an administrator. You will assimilate with a pre-existing character and control that character through a selection of safe assignments. Your progress and interactions will give us valuable data to streamline similar experiences for the general user, when we wish to launch.

That sounded a little too familiar. Viren thought remembering his interview. Hadn’t Duke from ‘Ethics’ said something similar?

You have been assigned the role of an Administrator. The person you will assimilate is Erasmus Guthry of Surren, Nihata (the in-game location). For this particular character, your interactions will be that of a gangster. You will be required to perform tasks, involving but not limited to coordination, negotiations, intimidation, blackmail...

“Wait, Wait, Wait, WHAT! I can’t play this character!” Viren looked at the black card as the list of actions were being read out. So this Erasmus guy is some sort of don? What is this, a trap?

...extortion, racketeering, torture, murder–

Viren tapped his trackpad with two fingers, pausing the video. On screen were human silhouettes comically performing the listed actions, which Viren did not find too amusing. Are these people trying to get me arrested?

Viren immediately contacted the liaison with Dumah Interactive whom Sonal had mentioned. Sonal’s ‘subordinate’ Aahna was, as expected, a bot, or as they are more appropriately called, an ‘artifical human’. These were essentially AI developed in the ‘30’s and did not identify themselves as machines - or bots. Viren however preferred to see them as exactly that.

“Good afternoon, Viren.” Aahna’s deceptively cheerful AI-modulated voice responded to the voice call. “How may I assist you–”

“Why am I playing a gangster? Even if my sessions are not publicised, they are still recorded by the government. If they find actions suspicious, I will meet the same end as my father.”

“To answer your question,” Aahna began, “First, your actions in The Anachron do not fall under the jurisdiction of any world government. Regardless of whether you massacre a hundred people or do something specifically banned in your own country, your contract with us is designed to supersede any government enforcement. We shall also spare no expense to defend you in the event such a situation arises. The safety of our contractors is a high priority, and we extend every support to those who request it or who need it.”

That was a bit of a relief. Viren wiped the sweat from his forehead, wondering what he had got himself into. It seemed that the bot had answers ready in case people brought up such grievances. Viren couldn’t help but feel that this was far too coincidence in his circumstances.

“Second,” she continued, “I strongly doubt such an outcome will be decided for you, Viren. From what our records show, your father was sentenced to life imprisonment. Fortunately, you are much too young to be considered–”

Viren had had enough. “Yes. Thank you, Aahna,” he barked. “That will be all.”

“If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to contact me.” Aahna said in the same cheerful tone .

“Sure.” Viren said impassively, with his face in his hands, so his voice came out muffled.

Aahna asked, “Have I said something wrong?”

Viren slid his fingers on his trackpad, disconnecting the call.

Was she assessing my tone just now? Those things give me the creeps.

A few hours had gone by, Viren sat with the Erasmus card in his hand transfixed by the white cubes of different sizes on the face of the card.

So this activates the game, huh? Well, I’ve got nothing else on the horizon. Maybe this is a sign.

Viren set up his neuralink hardware and auto-configured the software to work with the specifications of the experience. He had his pill ready; the pill numbed all movement for a certain set of hours. During those hours, it would be as if the participant were in lucid dream. At least, that was how the pill and the associated tech were advertised.

All right, Erasmus. Let’s see how alike you and I are.